The Very First Time
by SingingMisery
Summary: He was lovely, in both looks and personality. And Arthur would be damned before he let anyone corrupt Matthew.


Title: The Very First Time

Pairing: England/Canada (Arthur/Matthew)

Warnings: Sex, angst, Francis being a pervert.

Notes: Another kink meme fill! I am on a roll. This one called for the other nations finding out Canada is a virgin, but England steps up because he does not want to see Canada corrupted. Since I have a small love (you know...like Russia is small) for sweet introductary sex...I jumped on this like white on rice.

Beta: etrix

* * *

Not for the first time, everyone at the world conference meeting stared at Alfred. But this time, it wasn't because of one of his crazy ideas. It was about the absolutely delicious tidbit of information he had just blurted out.

Francis was the first one to break the silence. "So you are saying mon petite Mathieu is a virgin?"

Alfred grinned, showing his teeth."Yup."

The silence continued for a few more second. Then, everyone started to speak at once about the absent nation at once.

"He is my former colony, so it is only fair..."

"Why would he want you, old man? I'm closer to him. I should..."

"Canada should become one with Russia..."

"Psht, he should experience the awesomeness that is me..."

The nations present continued to squabble amongst themselves. Only one remained silent and brooding: Arthur. He couldn't believe the way the others were acting. With each new nation that spoke, he felt more and more ill. His poor Matthew couldn't be left to the mercy of these dogs.

Across from him, Francis's expression became dreamy. "I should invite him to a fancy dinner and feed him red wine. And when he is intoxicated and sending me looks of desire, I shall..."

Finally, Arthur reacted. He gripped the first thing he could find (a pen) and flung it at the French nation. His projectile struck true, hitting Francis square in the forehead. "You do that, frog, and I will castrate you."

Francis shot him a murderous look, rubbing the red mark on his head. Then, he looked around. "Castrate?" He muttered to himself, trying to remember what that word meant.

Alfred answered for him. "Er, Francis? I think the word for you is _châtrer."_

Francis shot a horrified look to Arthur. "You wouldn't dare!"

Arthur didn't answer, choosing instead to continue to glare daggers at everyone. The majority of the nations were put off by this, making mental notes to stay as far away from Canada as possible. But a few smelled a challenge, with a prize so tempting it couldn't be ignored. Arthur clenched his fists. Not for the first time, he would have to put up a fight.

* * *

Matthew sighed as he walked down the hall to his hotel room. There had been a storm that delayed him from arriving with everyone else. He hated being late, but it wasn't really anyone's fault. Matthew paused for a moment to yank his bag to him. But he miscalculated the force of his pull and it smacked into the back of his legs. He hissed in pain, rubbing the hurt skin. Then, a pair of feet appeared in his line of vision. Matthew looked up in surprise into Francis's face. The blond gave him an unnerving smile before holding out his hand. "Is that bag heavy?"

Matthew blinked in surprise, looking over his shoulder. There was no one there. Francis laughed lightly, and bent down to pick up his bag. "I don't want ma chère to strain himself." He strode down the hall without looking back. Matthew felt his mouth drop open. Francis...was talking to him? Not only that, but he was carrying bags? The Canadian nation stood and ran after the taller blond.

"Um...m-my room is right here." Matthew pointed at the door. Francis nodded, eyes roaming over Matthew's body when he turned around. They landed on the tempting backside and his grin widened. When Matthew got his door open, he turned back to Francis with a shy smile. "Thank you for carrying my bag," he whispered.

"It was nothing, Mathieu. Maybe I should come in? We don't want you to..." His sentence was cut short when someone none-too-gently bumped into him.

"Ah, Francis! There you are. We have to get to that meeting." Arthur crossed his arms over his chest.

Francis righted himself, shooting the other blond a hard glare. "What are you talking about?"

Arthur laughed lightly. "Oh don't tell me you forgot." He looked at Matthew with a roll of his eyes. "He is so forgetful, isn't he?" Matthew opened his mouth to answer, but Arthur turned back to Francis. "We have a meeting with Russia today. Right now." He grabbed Francis's arm and dragged him down the hall, leaving a bewildered Matthew in their wake.

* * *

Once Francis and Arthur got around the corner, the English nation shoved the other. "What do you think you are doing?"

The older blond smirked at him. "I am simply offering my...services to Matthew. He deserves someone with a lot of experience as his first lover."

Arthur spluttered, his anger reaching a boiling point. "You bloody pervert! I am not going to let you...defile him with your filth!" After checking to make sure the Canadian nation was safely in his room, Arthur stomped off. He needed to make battle plans.

* * *

Matthew sat on his bed, confused. Both Francis and Arthur had talked to him today, instead of usually ignoring him. It filled with him a sense of happiness. But, at the same time, it perplexed him. Still musing over what had happened, he slipped his shoes off and flipped the TV on. He found the hockey game he wanted to see playing and sat back to watch.

A few minutes into the game, there was a knock at the door. Matthew blinked and muted the TV. He opened the door to reveal Alfred standing there. His brother had a big grin and a plastic bag in hand. "Hey Matt! Wanna watch the game? I brought junk food." To prove his point, he yanked a bag of chips out of the bag and waved them around.

Matthew opened his mouth, but Alfred just breezed past him and flung himself down on the empty bed. The American nation opened the bag and started to cram the chips into his mouth, spilling crumbs on the blankets. He un-muted the TV, eyes fixated on the screen. Matthew sat on the other bed, eyes flicking back and forth between the TV and his brother.

At first it was weird having someone else in the room. But soon the blond relaxed and was cheering along with Alfred, albeit a little quieter. There was a sort of comfortable silence in the room, broken only by the American's nation's chewing. Then, Alfred spoke.

"You know, Matt, if you need anything...I'm here for you."

"I know, Al."

"I mean anything at all. You can count on me."

"That's great. And I know."

"...anything at all."

Matthew smiled at him. They may have had their differences in the past, but they did know they could rely on each other.

Alfred smiled back. He was going to be a hero in all this. If Matthew wanted him to take his virginity, that would be fine. But if he picked someone else, their bond would still be there. For now, he leaned back on the pillows and watched the rest of the hockey game.

* * *

The next day, Matthew woke up still feeling a little confused. While it was nice that Alfred had come over to his room, it had been completely unexpected. He shook his head, swinging his feet around to press them to the floor. He padded over to his bag and yanked out a t-shirt and jeans. He checked his watch, sighing when he realized he had ten minutes until the world conference meeting. After scanning the room, he found his shoes under one of the beds. Feeling marginally prepared, he opened his door.

But there was something blocking his way. Something big and burly and _Russian._

Ivan smiled down at him. "Ah Matthew. Are you on the way to the meeting? Good. I shall accompany you." He clamped a large hand on the nation's thin shoulder, almost causing Matthew's legs to buckle.

"I-Ivan. Um..." Matthew found his ability to speak was gone. Ivan was scary. He glanced around, but the hall was empty. Ivan led him to the elevator, his smile never wavering once. The doors slid open and Matthew was pushed inside. Ivan wrapped his arm around Matthew's shoulders.

"You are very quiet, da? You should not be so shy." When Matthew opened his mouth to speak, he was interrupted. "You should come visit me in Russia. I will train you to not be so shy."

"Um...that would be..." The doors opened and the blond carefully extracted himself from the Russian's grip. "_Ihavetogonowbye_." He quickly strode down the hall, not looking back.

During the meeting, he sat as faaar away from Ivan as possible.

* * *

It had been a very strange day. He received notes from Sadiq and Heracles, both asking him to meet them later. Other nations were looking at Arthur with intimidation written on their faces. But every time Matthew looked over at him, he was given a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring. But it just came off as creepy. After the meeting he had been stopped by Feliks, who had blinked a lot at him and spoke in a lower voice. Denmark had followed him around, just smiling at him. Even Berwald and Tino had talked to him, asking him if he wanted to have dinner with them. Matthew politely refused them all, wanting to be alone.

And he found solitude in the pool, of all places. After changing into his bathing suit, he sat down in the hot tub. He sighed softly as his muscles unwound slowly. His glasses fogged up, but he couldn't bring himself to wipe the condensation off.

What was going on? Everyone was suddenly noticing him. He wasn't naive enough to think it was because they were finally noticing Canada's contributions to the world. But what could it be?

He was startled out of his reverie by someone else splashing in the water. Startled, he looked up to meet red, cunning eyes.

"G-Gilbert. Hello."

"Hello, Martin."

"Um, it's Matthew..."

"Whatever. Listen, do you want an awesome back massage? Help with those muscles of yours."

The blond felt his mouth drop open a little. "N-no, I'm fine, thank you."

Gilbert grinned, shuffling over through the water. "Nah, you do. Here, I'll make it feel good." His hands gripped Matthew's shoulders and turned him around. Gilbert's fingers dug painfully into the soft tissue, making him wince. "Hmmm, awesome, isn't it?" The chuckle that followed after made Matthew shudder. Unnoticed by him, the albino leaned in and sniffed at Matthew's neck.

After a few seconds of the painful prodding, Matthew noticed something. "The bubbles have stopped running."

Gilbert looked up from letting his eyes wander over mouth-watering skin. "So?"

Matthew turned to him. "Can you go turn them on?" His voice was quiet, much like anytime he asked for anything.

A resigned sigh was his answer. Gilbert got up and rounded the corner where the switch was. Matthew sighed in relief, wondering how he could leave without offending the other. He blinked, looking over to where the white-haired nation had disappeared. Was that a thump?

Then, Arthur appeared. He gave Matthew that same awkward smile, clearing his throat. "Hello, my boy."

The little thrill that went through at that term of endearment made Matthew's face heat up. "Hello, Arthur. Did you see where Gilbert went to?"

The older blond grit his teeth and looked over the side. Then he looked back, grin bigger than ever. "He... had to go do something. He told me to say he was sorry." Matthew nodded, somewhat relieved. "Um, Matthew...I want to accompany you back to you room. Can you go get changed?"

The blond frowned, but nodded and stood. Arthur blinked and turned away, trying to ignore the way Matthew's swim trunks clung to his thighs. As soon as his former colony was out of sight, he turned to the unconscious nation behind him. Gilbert had a telltale lump on his head. With a sigh, he grabbed the red-eyed nation's arm and started to drag him towards a closet. With much grunting and cursing, Arthur finally got him in front of the door, only to have someone else's hand land on the doorknob.

Francis looked at him before flicking his gaze to Gilbert. With a roll of his eyes, he opened the door. "Come on, before Mathieu gets back."

Arthur dropped the heavy body on the floor, shutting the door behind him. "Aren't you his best friend?"

Francis shrugged, flicking his hair back. "_Oui._ But I am not leaving mon petite in his clutches." He exchanged a look with Arthur. "I mean, would you have sex with him?"

Arthur blinked, feeling the color drain from his face. "Point taken. But I am not going to let you have him."

Francis sighed. "Arthur. Angleterre. What do you intend to do? Let him remain a virgin forever? Sex is a beautiful thing. Doesn't he deserve to experience that?

The younger blond scowled, crossing his arms. "He deserves someone who won't add him to the notches in their bed post. He deserves a lot more gentleness and love than we have ever gave him. He deserves to be happy and cherished." He deserves me. Arthur almost jerked with that thought. Where had that come from?

The other nation rolled his eyes. "You have such a Victorian attitude, Arthur. Mathieu should be with me for his first time. I have more experience. You would just scare him." Francis shuddered, looking horrified at this.

Arthur levelled his angry gaze into amused blue eyes. "I do not want to defile him, you pervert. I need to protect him from being scarred by someone like you." He shook his head to clear his thoughts, "and what about you? You ignore him for most of his life. Then you take an interest in him only for sex? Admit it, frog. As soon as you were done with him, you would go right back to ignoring him. How is that healthy?"

Francis clenched his fists. "Why you little –"

"Arthur, I'm ready to...oh, I'm sorry." Matthew had indeed changed back into his jeans and shirt, hair still damp from the water. He looked like a doe-eyed child in his oversized clothing. Arthur's body ached with protectiveness and something he did not want to acknowledge.

"Ah, ma chère, let me walk you to your room." Francis shot a smug grin at Arthur when Matthew nodded. He wrapped his arm around the shorter blond, before sashaying in the direction of the elevators.

* * *

Arthur muttered under his breath about perverted nations and promises of violence. He carefully watched where Francis hands were. The one on Matthew's shoulders was gradually slipping lower and lower. It only served to make Arthur angrier and angrier. Soon, it rested on the small of the Canadian nation's back. Matthew started to look uncomfortable and tried to slowly pull away. But Francis kept tightening his grip, laughing slightly. Just as it started to inch down lower, Arthur struck. He shoved Francis, who propelled forward and smacked his head on the wall. Matthew almost fell too, but Arthur gripped his arm. He pulled the younger nation to him, trying to steady his balance. Matthew fit perfectly against his side. Arthur coughed and pushed him away slightly.

Francis rolled on the floor, clutching his head while moaning dramatically. Matthew made a concerned noise, kneeling down. "Are you hurt?"

The French nation moaned, grasping the other nation's arms. "I-I can see the light, chère. As my dying request, I ask only one thing..."

Arthur, knowing full well what Francis wanted, spoke up in a panic. "He needs ice cream! To get the blood sugar running. We'll go get him some."

Matthew looked up and nodded. "Okay. We'll be back, Francis. Don't worry."

The French nation looked momentarily shocked, but quickly scrambled to his feet. "Non, non Mathieu. I am fine now, see?" He slowly spun around, proudly stretching his body.

"Well, we don't want to risk you passing out on us, do we? You should go lie down." Despite the concerned words, Arthur was grinning.

Matthew nodded, adjusting his glasses. "He's right. You did hit your head."

Francis gritted his teeth, grinding them together. He stood, brushing his silk shirt. He faked a smile, trying to maintain his dignity. "It is so good of you to be concerned for me." He gripped Matthew's hand, raising it to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the knuckles. The resulting blush made him smirk. Arthur's face darkened even further, accompanied with a squeaking noise. Francis knew that if he didn't take his leave, things could get ugly. With a final caress of his lips, he turned and glided down the hall.

Arthur checked to see if the coast was clear, before gently directing his former colony to his room. Matthew smiled at him, looking so happy that is hurt to look at him. "T-thank you for today. I'm so happy you guys were talking to me."

Arthur clenched his fists. If only Matthew knew...no. He had sworn to protect him. And protect him he would. Even if protecting him meant not letting the younger nation know just why the others were taking an interest in him. But he gave a polite smile, waiting until Matthew closed his door before going to his own room.

* * *

Arthur closed his door, leaning against it heavily. This running around had taken a lot out of him. And to think, he had three more days of this.

_What do you intend to do? Let him remain a virgin forever?_

But he couldn't let that happen to Matthew. He couldn't let him writhe in pleasure, skin becoming flushed with...

Arthur went rigid. His mind conjured images: of pale skin lying amidst blue cotton; of blue eyes, brimming with unshed tears of pleasure, staring into his own green eyes; of a wet, exploring mouth grazing over his neck, going lower and lower...

Arthur stood abruptly, going to the fridge to grab a bottle of brandy. He hurriedly poured a glass of the amber liquid, before draining it in one gulp. The alcohol steadied his shaking hands, but not his nerves. He couldn't deny that his former colony was very lovely, in both looks and personality but where had that come from? Oh god, he was no better than those other despoilers! He poured himself another drink.

Arthur always looked out for Matthew and part of looking out for a child was teaching them about the ways of the life. But was he really looking after him? Sex was a part of life. He couldn't shield him from everything in the world. Maybe he was doing more harm than good? If the younger nation didn't know about sex...he would be at the mercy of those dogs.

With a third drink, he made up his mind. He would talk to Matthew about this whole mess tomorrow. He deserved to know what was happening. And maybe, he would get these thoughts sorted out too.

* * *

Back in his room, Matthew was tossing on his bed. Sleep eluded him, dancing outside of his grasp. The events of the day played through his mind. He had been very happy that Francis, Arthur, and Alfred had been spending time with him. Well, he was more happy (and guilty) that he got to spend time with the English nation. It wasn't that he didn't care about Francis and Alfred; it was just he felt differently about Arthur. With much blushing and shame, he admitted that he had somewhat of a crush on the elder. Maybe, he even loved him. Sometimes, Matthew even had confusing dreams where he was tangled within Arthur's limbs, naked as the day he was born. He woke up feeling sick and disgusted. But those feelings usually were solved by talking a cold shower.

But he would never admit his feelings to anyone else. He would just get rejected. Arthur would want someone brave and good-looking. And he was neither of those things. Matthew clutched the pillow to his chest, nails digging into the soft material. It hurt, to think of someone else with Arthur. But it would be worth it to see the older nation happy. So, he would keep his feelings quiet and locked away.

Matthew tried to ignore the way his eyes were stinging with tears.

* * *

Arthur opened his eyes, then immediately shut them. Why did he insist on drinking so much? It felt like there was sandpaper in his mouth and his eyes were gritty. He stumbled to his feet and tripped his way to the bathroom. After splashing water on his face and gulping down three glasses of water, he felt marginally better. After turning on the shower, he remembered the promise he made to himself. He would tell Matthew the reason why he was having attention follow him.

Oh. That was why he drank so much.

He barely paid attention in the shower, almost using body wash as his shampoo. His mind chided him, telling him that he was ruining Matthew's happiness. Nations were talking to him. Wasn't that enough?

But he was getting attention for all the wrong reasons, from all the wrong nations. He needed to know, for his own safety. Otherwise, he would be seduced by some smarmy charmer who wanted to add him to their list of conquests. That would hurt Matthew deeply. And he would not stand by and let that happen if he had the power to stop it. His resolve set, he dried his hair and dressed himself.

* * *

Matthew blinked sleep from his eyes, trying to place where the noise was coming from. It took him a few moments to realize that someone was knocking on the door. He snatched his glasses off the bedside table, before running to the door. It was only when he turned the doorknob that he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His sleep-mussed hair was in disarray around his face and he was still in his ratty sleeping clothes. Heat rising in his cheeks, he pulled the door open, praying to whoever was listening that it was not—

"Matthew." Arthur gave him a smile that didn't quite reach his emerald eyes. "May I come in?"

Wordless in his mortification that Arthur was seeing him like this, Matthew stepped back to let the blond nation in. He looked down at his feet, wiggling his toes. "Um...I'm just going to get changed." He plucked a few clothes from his bag and fled to the bathroom.

Arthur chuckled, before sitting down on the unused bed. Matthew was cute when he was flustered. There were a few minutes of silence, broken by the occasional scuffling from the bathroom. Finally, the other nation came out. He was dressed in pair of faded black sweatpants and an equally faded blue t-shirt with a maple leaf on it. Arthur smiled up at him, knowing it wasn't very convincing. He patted the spot next him. "Come here, we need to talk."

Matthew blinked, suddenly looking very nervous. He perched awkwardly on the bed, folding his legs. There was a rip in the bottom of his pants begging to be played with. He wrapped it around his finger and started to tug.

"Matthew. Look at me. Please?"

Nothing could prevent him from obeying that voice. Matthew looked up, meeting serious green eyes.

"You know I care about you." It wasn't a question. "And that I would not lie to you." He proceeded to tell the whole story, starting from Alfred's blurting of Matthews secret at the first world meeting. It was upsetting, to see the younger nation's face crumble with each word. But Arthur pressed ruthlessly on. Finally, he finished. Silence hung between them, weighing them down.

Matthew's face was red as he struggled to find the right words. He was angry, but it was outweighed by his embarrassment and hurt. How stupid was he? "Well, I should have expected..." He broke off his sentence, shrugging. It was becoming more and more difficult to pretend this wasn't affecting him. "Does it make me pathetic that I'm still happy that others were talking to me?"

He was enveloped in scented cotton. Matthew pressed his cheek to Arthur's chest, letting a few tears leak out. His hair was gently stroked. He clung harder, feeling just like a child again.

"No. That does not make you pathetic." Arthur cupped Matthew's cheeks, looking into pained blue eyes. "You simply crave the attention you were never given." He rubbed his thumb along the younger nation's cheekbone, wiping the tears away. Something passed between them, electric and thrilling. On an impulse, Arthur leaned down with parted lips. Matthew met him halfway.

Fireworks erupted.

Arthur pulled back from the kiss, looking flustered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

Matthew blinked, trying to get rid of the daze that kiss had put him in. "No...no, it's fine." He leaned forward, eyes pleading. "Can...you kiss me again?"

Arthur kissed Matthew again. The younger nation was endearing in his inexperience. The English nation coaxed Matthew's mouth open. One hand slid under the edge of the t-shirt to slide over pale skin. At the same time, he flipped them over so the Canadian nation was lying on his back. The response was a surprised jerk. Arthur pulled away again, looking down at Matthew. The younger blond looked startled, but deliciously mussed.

"Matthew..." Arthur sat up again. "We shouldn't do this." At the hurt expression on the other's face, he sighed. "You're upset right now. I don't want to take advantage of you." _I would be no better than the others._

Matthew was torn. Part of him wanted to run. He was scared of being touched and kissed. But the other part yearned for more. The sides waged war, leaving a confusing pain in his chest. "Arthur..." He bit his lip, not knowing what to say. "I-I wanted it to be you!"

The older nation jerked, as if he had been hit with a lightning bolt. "You...wanted me to be what?"

His cheeks flared; the heat was the only thing he could focus on. Why did he have to blurt that out? Without looking up, he whispered, "I wanted you to be my first." He twisted the blanket in his hands, lips pressed into a line. He waited for Arthur to laugh at him, or worse, to get angry.

Instead, two fingers slid under his chin. His face was tilted up, and he met green eyes. "You want me to be your first?" A nod. "Are you sure?" Another nod. "I need to hear you say it."

Matthew inhaled, his eyes widening. "I-I want you." He leaned forward, grasping Arthur's arm. "I want you." The words came out a lot steadier than he thought they would. "Please, Arthur..."

Nothing, not even heaven or hell itself, could prevent him from denying that soft voice. It obviously took a lot for Matthew to get those words out. Suddenly, it wasn't so much about keeping Matthew away from the others. It was about love and trust. The younger blond wanted him for this. Arthur smiled, brushing soft hair out of nervous blue eyes. "Tell me if you want to stop." He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Matthew's forehead. "Because I don't think I can stop myself." He pressed a hand to the cloth-covered chest and gently pushed Matthew back onto the bed. Their lips met again, this time more hungry than before. Arthur let his hands roam over the expanse of younger nation's torso, listening to whimpers and gasps of pleasure. A little spot on his neck produced a whine. A touch to his sides let a surprised inhale. Arthur kept going, aroused by just how vocal Matthew was. He grasped the edge of the faded shirt and pulled it over the blond head.

Immediately, Matthew crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't want to show his scarred chest off. His arms were gripped and uncrossed. "Don't do that. I want to see you."

Soon, Arthur's mouth and tongue joined in his finger's exploration. A thumb rubbed over his nipple, sending little bolts of pleasure through his spine. Heat pooled in his groin. The same attention was put lavished on his other nipple, this time with Arthur's mouth. The pebbled bud was gently nipped. Matthew threw back his head and moaned.

Arthur watched as Matthew's hands fisted and relaxed continuously, as if uncertain of what their master wanted. Anger flashed through him, aimed at himself and others. If he had only paid more attention to Matthew, then maybe he wouldn't be shaking apart at the slightest touch. He paused in his ministrations to gently grab a pale wrist. He held it to his chest. "You're allowed to touch me too." Matthew blinked, running his palm over clothed skin. At first the touches were brief, hesitant. Nervous blue eyes would keep meeting his. Arthur made his own noises, encouraging Matthew. The sounds of appreciation helped steady the younger nation's hand. The touches became more firm, though still soft. Slim fingers landed on the buttons of his shirt. Again, blue eyes looked up into his. There was an unspoken question in them. "Please, do it." Matthew fumbled with the first button, but took a calming breath. Finally, the round plastic slid through the fabric. The next one followed. Soon, Arthur's chest was bare. Matthew gulped, but pressed his hand to Arthur's ribs and slid upwards. The older blond shrugged out of his shirt, baring more skin for Matthew to explore.

The two took their time, gentle caresses bringing more and more passionate responses. Matthew was too far gone in his pleasure to notice that Arthur was trailing his hands lower. His hips were gripped and he was pulled forward. Arthur slowly glided the waistband of Matthew's sweatpants over thin hipbones. Soon, the Canadian nation was in just his boxers. Again, his cheeks grew heated. Arthur watched with amusement when the flush spread over the long neck and lean shoulders, tinting the pale skin a light pink. He pulled Matthew to him, initiating another long kiss.

When the need for oxygen broke them apart, Arthur pressed two fingers into the elastic band of the boxers. Matthew clenched his hands, but made no other move to stop him. With two tugs, the underwear was removed. The younger blond reached for the bed sheet, trying to cover his nudity. His wrist was gently gripped, preventing him from moving. Arthur's other hand pushed him until he was sprawled on the bed, legs spread out. His cock was half-hard already. Embarrassment and anxiousness felt like a second skin, but he ready for whatever Arthur wanted to do to him.

At first, nothing happened. Green eyes swept over his body, studying him. Matthew squirmed. "What is it?" Was there something wrong with him? He tried to sit up, to find what Arthur was staring at.

But the other blond laughed slightly, pushing Matthew back down. "It's nothing." He paused, face becoming serious. "You have no idea how lovely you are, do you?" The blush deepened. "I didn't think so." Arthur shimmied down to the foot of the bed, staring at Matthew's erection. It was fully hard now, pressing against the flat stomach. Liquid pearled on the head, only to drip on Matthew's belly. With a wicked smile, Arthur leaned forward and took the head into his mouth.

Matthew flung back his head, giving a wounded cry. His hips jerked involuntarily, prompting hands to pin them down. Thinking he had done something wrong, he stammered breathless apologies. Arthur didn't pull back, taking more and more of Matthew's wonderfully large cock into his mouth, worshiping him with his lips and tongue.

It was all too much: the heat and the hands holding him down. Over and over, Arthur took all of him into his mouth. He used his tongue to trace the underside of his erection and tease the sensitive head. Matthew was unable to hold back his embarrassing noises. Whimpers and moans echoed throughout the silent room. Hot pleasure untwined in his belly, threatening to strike. His body felt tense and strung out, like a guitar string waiting to be plucked. This feeling was totally alien to him; it was a little frightening. It felt like he was going to be consumed. Never before had he felt this good, not even when using his own hand. Just before he was about to explode, Arthur pulled back.

For a second, Matthew wanted to scream in frustration. But a soft hand threading in his hair stopped him. "If I let you come now, I won't get to make love to you." Despite his nervousness, terror streaked through him at the thought of stopping this.

Arthur smiled, pressing an affectionate kiss to his forehead. He slipped off the bed, quickly running to the bathroom. He found a bottle of a gel-like liquid. When he entered the room, Matthew was running a hand over his chest with absent-minded fascination. Arthur kneeled on the bed beside him, hand sliding under one silken leg to press it back against Matthew's chest. He searched the honest face before him, looking for any discomfort at the position. But Matthew had just sighed at the touch, shifting his hips a little. Arthur slid his finger along the valley between the globes of Matthew's backside. He circled the tight entrance with the pad of his finger, his other hand rubbing along the younger blonds' tense arm. "Relax, my boy. I'm just getting you used to my touch." Gradually, Matthew did relax, the tension lessening. It was endearing, to see parts of the child Matthew once was. And that thought stopped him. Matthew would always be innocent, would always be sweet. Nothing could destroy that, least of all him. Arthur grabbed the bottle he had discarded, carefully coating his finger with the sweet-smelling gel.

Matthew blinked, confused. "What are you doing?" He couldn't see how this had anything to do with sex. Wasn't Arthur's...you know, supposed to go inside him? Even though, he really couldn't see that fitting inside him without pain. But, he would take it. Anything for Arthur.

The older nation pressed a slippery digit back to the miniscule ring of muscle, covering it with the impromptu lubrication. "I'm going to prepare you. I don't want to cause you any unnecessary pain." Matthew still looked endearingly puzzled but his body was pliant. Arthur pressed the finger inside exquisite heat. This action was awarded with a breathless gasp. Green eyes snapped up to Matthew's face, searching for any serious pain. He looked uncomfortable but not hurt. Another finger sunk in, joining its sibling. The two were gently pushed in and out, opening Matthew up. Now there was pain etched into the youthful features but he didn't complain. Arthur's clean hand found one of Matthew's. He pressed kisses to the knuckles as a silent apology as a third finger joined the other two. Arthur took his time stretching and opening tight muscles. Little noises met his actions as the beautiful body before him twitched and shifted. Matthew's legs trembled as he tried to hold the position he was in.

Finally, Arthur felt he had prepared Matthew enough. He carefully removed his fingers, wiping them on the corner of the bed. Once again, he grasped the bottle to cover his hand and slick the gel along his penis. Matthew watched him, glasses askew and his bottom lip being nervously chewed. Arthur leaned forward, pulling the plump lip out from the ivory prison. "Just relax." Matthew nodded as the other nation arranged him to line the hardened arousal against his glistening entrance. With a groan, Arthur pressed into scorching heat.

It hurt. Oh god, did it ever hurt. Matthew felt like he was being split open. His hands scrambled for purchase on anything he could reach. His nails found something and he clung to it, trying to ride the pain out. It wasn't until there was a pained grumble above him that he realized he was hanging onto Arthur's shoulders, nails digging painfully into his skin. He let go, stammering apologies. But the older blond shook his head. "It's okay," he murmured. They held still, the silence broken only by Matthew's breathing.

The young nation's eyes blurred with tears, much to his embarrassment. What was _wrong_ with him? He tried to hide them, turning his face into his arm. He did not want to seem weak in front of Arthur. But it was all too much. The pain, the joy, the fear were all mixing together. Calloused fingertips traced along his cheekbones and he turned his head. "I'm hurting you." The words were smeared into the top of his head.

Matthew nodded. "Yes, but it's okay. I can take it." He shifted his hips slightly, finding the pain still there but to a lesser extent. With a deep breath he gasped out, "you can move now."

Arthur still had some doubts, but he pulled back and pressed inside again. This time, there was little resistance. But there was still ache in Matthew's eyes. The green-eyed nation went slow, moving his body ever so slightly, hoping to find that spot inside to make this all better. It wasn't until the third thrust that he found it. But the reaction was worth it.

Matthew gave a short yell, his eyes widening in shock. He looked uncertain and anxious. Arthur laughed, making sure to hit that spot again. Matthew didn't scream this time, but he inhaled sharply.

"Don't worry. That is supposed to happen," Arthur murmured. He continued to press inside carefully, watching as the younger nation's cock hardened again. He was gorgeous like this. Lean body all spread out, legs shaking, face flushed, mouth working uselessly. Arthur didn't know how much he was going to last. But he was determined to get Matthew to come first. Arthur wrapped his hand around Matthew's thick erection, rubbing his thumb along the weeping head. Another beautiful cry answered this action, so Arthur shallowly pumped the fat organ in time with his thrusts.

Matthew bit his lip to keep his scream inside. His body felt like it was on fire. He hadn't really expected this to feel very good. He thought Arthur sucking on him (god, even just thinking that made him feel embarrassed) was his pleasure—his reward for putting up with the rest—the actual intercourse was for Arthur. But something he couldn't name was growing inside him, building pressure in his groin and lower belly. It was clawing at him, wanting out. Now the added stimulation of the hand around his cock was almost overwhelming. He focused on Arthur, trying to get his mind together, to get some words out. He felt like he was falling apart, getting lost under wave upon wave of heat and satisfaction. "Arthur...Arthur, please...I'm going to..." His voice broke at a particularly forceful thrust.

Arthur smirked down at him. "Does this feel good? Do you want to come?" Matthew nodded, embarrassment still staining his cheeks. Arthur tightened his grip, stroking the sensitive skin with renewed fervour. This time, Matthew was unable to contain a startled noise. "Beautiful boy...show me how beautiful you are. Come for me. Just let go."

White. Matthew's vision was painted with it. His body convulsed, like a whip cracking. Wet heat spread over his stomach. His muscles went through spasms; the aftershocks of pleasure making him twitch and moan. He felt raw, exposed. It was a new and good feeling, something that he didn't want to end.

When the blond swam back into consciousness, Arthur was kneeling over him. A cloth was being used to clean his skin. Matthew shivered at the cool air on his damp skin. Arthur gave him an apologetic look and covered him with a blanket. For a moment, Matthew panicked, thinking the other was going to leave him. But the blankets were lifted for a brief moment, and the warm body of the English nation slid next to his. A strong hand swept through his hair, pushing the stray strands out of his eyes. Matthew sighed, feeling warm and happy. His body was floating away. Arthur paused in his stroking to ask, "Are you alright?"

Matthew pressed into his hand, eyes closed. His body was still sore, little twinges that reminded him what had happened. But it was not unbearable. In fact, it was almost...nice. "I'm fine," he whispered. Exhaustion crawled over him and his head fell onto the pillow. "J-just give me a minute." Matthew yawned, before giving into sleep.

Arthur rolled his eyes good-naturedly, attention captured entirely by the sleeping nation. He spent the hour before his own sleepiness overtook him watching Matthew.

* * *

Matthew stirred awake, unsure how long he had slept. A glance at the clock told him it had been several hours. The light through the window had diminished; the sun all had sunk into the horizon. He blinked, registering an arm wrapped around his waist. Arthur moved, indicating he was awake. Matthew faced him, suddenly shy. He pulled the sheets up to his chest, wrapping it around himself. The older nation made a face, but made no move to drag the covers back down.

Matthew chewed his lip. "I-I don't want anyone to know about this." At the hurt expression on Arthur's face, the words spilled out breathlessly. "Not because of you. I want this just to be between us. I-it's not about them." He stared into green eyes, trying to make the other nation understand.

Arthur practically melted at the worried expression on Matthew's face. He smiled, pressing a kiss to the younger nation's forehead. "I understand. I promise I will not tell anyone unless you give me permission." He gathered pale cheeks in his hands, initiating another kiss. The kiss was slow and lazy, both nations too spent for it to provoke any heat. They broke apart. "I want this to stay between us as well."

Matthew pressed his face to Arthur's shoulder, sighing with relief. Despite his long nap, he still felt exhausted. He never wanted to get out of this bed, never wanted to leave Arthur's side. There was a chuckle above his head and he was arranged to lie back down on the bed. "Relax. Go back to sleep." Matthew nodded, not fighting that voice. The blankets were arranged around him, the cotton cool against his heated skin. "Comfortable?" Matthew didn't even get to answer. He fell back into a dreamless sleep.

The next time he awoke, he was alone. He reached his arm across the empty space on his bed. Was it a dream? He groaned, pressing his face into the pillow. Then, the blonds' fingers brushed a scrap of paper. He looked, pushing his glassed back onto his nose. Matthew grasped the paper, unfolding it.

_Matthew,_

_I apologize that I am not there when you wake up. I got a call from Alfred about some idiotic idea that he wanted to talk about. I tried to avoid him, but he wouldn't leave it alone. I'll see you at the meeting._

_Arthur_

Matthew blinked, reading though the message again. So, it wasn't a dream? He actually...did that with Arthur last night? Awe struck him like a lightning bolt. But as quickly as it hit, it died. Arthur had more important things to do than to coddle him. He indulged him for an evening, and Matthew was grateful for that. He smiled, trying to ignore the dull ache in his chest. The meeting. Focus on the meeting.

* * *

As it turned out, Arthur did not have to say anything to the others. Feliks caught a wince when Matthew sat down and pointed it out with a shout. All the nations turned to stare, making Matthew blush and worm down into his seat. A disappointed groan rose from the some, before they all settled down. The Canadian nation managed to get his cheeks to stop flaming by doodling on his paper. His mind chanted a mantra at him, telling him not to look up. The thought of looking at Arthur made Matthew want to fall into a million different pieces. He tried to tell himself that if he could go back to being ignored. Invisibility was his forte, after all.

But, Matthew didn't think he could. Now that he had a taste of having that attention, he was terrified of letting it go. A lifetime of loneliness held none of the comfortable appeal it used to. It was now daunting and...gloomy. Matthew viciously gnawed on the inside of his cheek, trying to keep burning tears at bay. It worked, for the most part. A stray tear slithered down his cheek, landing on the paper.

At last, the meeting was over. All the nations filed past him. No one attempted to speak with him. Matthew didn't look up, didn't think he could handle it. Finally, it was quiet. The blond gathered up his things with a sigh.

"Matthew."

He whipped around. Arthur was there, looking worried. The older nation cleared his throat. "Did...you get my note?"

Feeling numb, Matthew could only nod. "D-don't you have some other things to do?" He tried to keep any hope out of his voice.

Arthur frowned. "No. Nothing could be more important right now." He stepped forward slowly, not wanting to crowd the younger nation. Matthew didn't move, blue eyes blinked owlishly with each of Arthur's steps. Finally, the elder blond stood in front of Matthew and cradled his face in gentle hands. Just like the night before, a slow kiss ensued. His former colony practically moulded to his body, sighing happily into the kiss.

When they stepped back and away from each other, Matthew was smiling beautifully. "I never thought you would be a romantic."

Arthur shrugged, looking away. "Well, don't tell anyone." He reached out and grasped Matthew's wrist. There was a moment of silence, in with the English nation tried to choose his next words. "Do you still have that cabin? The one up in the mountains?"

Matthew tilted his head, looking thoughtful. "Oh. Yes, it's still there. I usually visit it every summer."

Arthur nodded, rubbing his thumb along Matthew's palm. "I would like to see it." His voice was low, full of implications.

Predictably, the younger nation flushed. He took a deep breath, before stammering out, "I-I could show y-you it now, if you like." Matthew paused, taking another breath. "If you don't have anything more important, I mean."

Arthur shrugged. "Just something with Francis, but sod him. Right now, you are very important. I need a vacation. You need a vacation. It just...works out."

Matthew grinned, his face brightening. "You are going to love out there. There is this beautiful lake that is perfect for swimming..." He became more animated as he talked about the nature surrounding his cabin. Arthur watched, finding himself entranced by the way Matthew moved and talked. He may have missed out on the younger nation's wonders before but, now, Arthur was looking forward to seeing more…much more.

* * *

Wow. if you stuck with all of that...thank you.


End file.
